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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27182645">devil's in the details (but you got a friend in me)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebornySuperbia/pseuds/RebornySuperbia'>RebornySuperbia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ready or Not (2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Fix-It, Healing, Living Together, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sharing a Bed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 03:09:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,251</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27182645</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebornySuperbia/pseuds/RebornySuperbia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you asking me to move in?” </p><p>Daniel sighed, tapping the pen against his leg. He looked like he was silently begging her not let him write anything. Grace felt a bit bad asking him to explain himself, because whatever reason he had for wanting her to be near him, it’s the same reason that was making her agree to the arrangement.</p><p>They had no one else to go back to.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daniel Le Domas/Grace Le Domas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>133</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>devil's in the details (but you got a friend in me)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Obligatory "Daniel Lives!" fix-it because even after watching the movie seven times, I refuse to believe he's gone. The title is from 'peace' by Taylor Swift. The whole "Daniel loses his voice and deals with that alongside the trauma" is heavily inspired by (spoilers!) Roger Mackenzie's storyline in the last season of Outlander.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>The Day After</strong>
</p><p>            Daniel didn’t explode like the rest of his family.</p><p>            When Grace dragged herself out of the burning dining room, she stopped and looked at his body, so still, his hand resting against his chest. The blood had dried long ago. Carefully, despite her aching bones and damaged hand, she dragged him out with her. She hooked her arms under his shoulders and dragged him, leaving a nasty trail of blood along the way.</p><p>            Perhaps he didn’t go with them because he had already died. If it was mercy that he didn’t explode, then he didn’t deserve to burn like the rest of his psychotic, Satan-worshipping family. He deserved a burial. Maybe, she thought, she could bury him in the garden somewhere.</p><p>            But he was too heavy, and Grace only managed to reach the steps where the ceremony was held before whimpering in pain and letting him go. She slumped down, pulled a cigarette from Becky’s case and began smoking. Her eyes flickered to him, lingering on his closed eyes. She scooted closer, carefully lifting his head and resting it on her lap. She caressed his face gently, brushing her fingertips on the lines under his eyes and between his brows.</p><p>            Grace hoped that he was finally at peace.</p><p>            When the police finally arrived, Grace didn’t feel an overwhelming sense of relief like she expected to. She was mostly annoyed that they weren’t informed earlier, when all of this could’ve been stopped.</p><p>            “What happened to you?”</p><p>            “In-laws,” she said dryly.</p><p>            “And who is this?”</p><p>            “My brother-in-law.” Was he? Her husband was dead. Grace’s damaged hand went to Daniel’s cheek again. He was still so warm. “He got shot.”</p><p>            “Ma’am, we need to take him.”</p><p>            Grace kept staring at him for a second before nodding. They carefully picked him and laid him on a stretcher. Another paramedic wrapped a blanket around her shoulders before taking her injured hand to inspect it and ask her questions. However, Grace kept watching them look at Daniel’s gunshot wound, check his pulse, and whisper something to each other.</p><p>            All she managed to catch was “He’s alive. Barely.”</p><p>            Hope ran through Grace’s veins.</p><p>*</p><p>
  <strong>Five Days Later</strong>
</p><p>            The last face Daniel saw before he died was Alex’s, begging him not to go. He wanted to tell him that he managed to buy Grace some time, told her to run. As the world slowly began to darken around him, he thought that at least, in this fucked up life of his, he managed to do one good thing. Not that it would erase every shitty thing he and his family ever did.</p><p>            God knows how many times he messed up.</p><p>            Wherever he was going, he thought, would be better than where he was. No loveless marriage, no fucked-up family, none of that bullshit.</p><p>            That was until he opened his eyes again. He thought hell might have started in a pristine white hospital room with the TV playing and a very, <em>very</em> sore throat. Seemed appropriate to prep him before eternal suffering. Maybe he’d finally meet the infamous Mr. Le Bail. He did have a thing or two to say about the eradication clause.</p><p>            But Grace’s deer-in-the-headlights eyes were staring back at him, relieved, and he knew that it was definitely not hell. Grace shouldn’t go wherever he was going. There was an odd sense of relief that washed over him at seeing her. She was clean, sweatpants and a blue hoodie that matched her eyes. Her blonde hair was loose and framed her face. She was in a wheelchair.</p><p>He looked at her and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. It was difficult and painful to speak, like someone pressing a knife against his throat. Grace placed a bandaged hand on his and shook her head, alarmed.</p><p>            “It’s better if you don’t speak.”</p><p>            Daniel’s eyes narrowed. Grace took his hand and placed it against his own neck. He felt a bandage beneath his fingertips. His eyebrows rose in question.</p><p>            “Your… <em>wife</em> managed to thankfully miss any major arteries, but the surgery caused some minor damage to your vocal cords, so…” Grace pressed her lips together, like she was withholding the bad news. “You won’t be able to speak for a while, just until it heals.”</p><p>            Daniel blinked again. So he was alive. Wait, why was he alive? Does that mean the deal was bullshit after all?</p><p>            Grace waited for him to do something, but he was puzzled. So she gave him a somber nod and wheeled herself away from him. She called one of the nurses.</p><p>After that, it was a blur of doctors explaining his situation, nurses getting blood samples, and a speech therapist explaining the situation all over again. All the while, Grace remained by his bedside.</p><p>Daniel eyed her wheelchair after everything was done.</p><p>“I should be on bed rest. Honestly, I feel fine. They insisted on the wheelchair.”</p><p>            She gave him his phone and a notepad with a pen.</p><p>            “In case you want to tell me something,” she said.</p><p>            Daniel grabbed the pen and scribbled.</p><p>            <em>Alex?</em></p><p>            Grace’s mood darkened. His eyes drifted to her hand, and there was no ring. He looked back up, mouth open in an unuttered question, eyes wide. Grace inhaled sharply through her nose, then shook her head. She seemed more angry than upset, however. She rubbed her chest, near her left shoulder.</p><p>            “He let them hold me down. Ready to sacrifice me.”</p><p>            <em>What the actual fuck, Alex? </em></p><p>He gaped at her, then looked away, cheeks coloring in shame. He had told her that Alex would be the one to save her when it came down to it.</p><p>            <em>The deal?</em> He asked.</p><p>            “Oh, that was real,” she said with a snort. “At the crack of dawn, your entire family just…” And then, she mimed an explosion.</p><p>            The furrow between his brows deepened. He scribbled <em>really?</em></p><p>            “How do I put this delicately…” she murmured. He held up his hand to get her attention, then wrote <em>Fuck them,</em> which managed to get a laugh, albeit short-lived. “Your family popped like balloons as soon as the sun was out and I was still alive.”</p><p>            Daniel let out a weak laugh, mostly in disbelief. Not because she survived, but because the curse was real, and that it didn’t take him. He was a Le Domas, and he was most definitely alive, though hanging by a thread, when the sun came out.</p><p>So, why was he still alive?</p><p>            He began writing <em>why</em> but quickly scribbled over it, shaking his head.</p><p>            “Hey, hey,” Grace said sweetly, wheeling herself closer. “I don’t know why you didn’t go with them, Daniel, but maybe you’re here because you were a decent human being.”</p><p>            <em>Nice joke.</em> Even a sarcastic snort was painful.</p><p>            “I’m serious. Whatever the reason is, you’re still here, and I’m… I’m glad.”</p><p>            Daniel held her gaze. She was honest but nervous. She fidgeted with the string of her hoodie.</p><p>            “It’s nice knowing you still have someone when you think everything is fucked.”</p><p>            He couldn’t understand how she still thought he was that ‘someone.’ But Grace was right, because he didn’t have any friends, and he was sure as hell wasn’t going to miss Charity. But the dull ache of losing Alex and learning of his betrayal made itself known.</p><p>            And he was glad he couldn’t speak.</p><p>            Grace took his hand in her good one.</p><p>            Yeah, he was glad.</p><p>*</p><p>
  <strong>Four Weeks Later</strong>
</p><p>            Being the last living Le Domas members meant splitting the inheritance in half. Though they both didn’t want anything to do with it. Well, except to stay somewhere.</p><p>            Grace had planned to leave Daniel alone after she was discharged from the hospital. She was glad he was alive, but they were constant reminders to each other about what had happened that day in the mansion. That, and the fact that he might’ve resented her for letting the only person he cared about die.</p><p>            Like she had any choice.</p><p>            Like Alex didn’t deserve it.</p><p>            But Daniel, on the day of her discharge, held up his note.</p><p>            <em>Where are you gonna stay?</em></p><p>            “An apartment a few blocks from here,” she said. “I’ve looked at listings.”</p><p>            It seemed like he knew that would be her answer, because he flipped the page and turned the note.</p><p>            <em>I have a penthouse not far from here that’s been practically abandoned once Charity said she wanted a house. I don’t feel like going back to the house.</em></p><p>            Grace’s eyes went to his own dark ones. He quirked an eyebrow and shrugged. Wait, did he mean what she thought he meant?</p><p>            “Are you asking me to move in?” she asked cautiously. Daniel nodded, then gave her a suggestive smirk, which made her fondly roll her eyes at him. Daniel let out a quick exhale, which she knew was his attempt at a laugh, then scribbled on the bottom of the paper.</p><p>            <em>Don’t worry. First date is coming.</em></p><p>            She snorted a laugh, then crossed her arms. “Why are you asking me?”</p><p>            Daniel sighed, tapping the pen against his leg. He looked like he was silently begging her not let him write anything. Grace felt a bit bad asking him to explain himself, because whatever reason he had for wanting her to be near him, it’s the same reason that was making her agree to the arrangement.</p><p>            They had no one else to go back to.</p><p>            She sure as hell didn’t have a family, and she doubted Daniel had any long-term friends. If he did, then they made their position on his devil-worshipping family very clear when they didn’t show up at the hospital to visit him or sent any flowers.</p><p>            So Grace’s shoulders slumped heavily and she nodded. Relief washed over Daniel.</p><p>            In the end, it proved to be a beneficial arrangement for both of them. They had to frequent the hospital for check-ups, her for her hand, and Daniel for his throat. It was easier to schedule the same appointment and go and come back together.</p><p>            Also, having Daniel around was distracting. In the days before she moved in with him, Grace had found that loneliness brought back memories of that night more often. She often woke up from nightmares where she was tied to a table, ready to be sacrificed. She awoke breathless, drenched in sweat, heart at her throat and hand throbbing with pain. The dream always ended with a different Le Domas stabbing her, often Alex.</p><p>            But now, when she woke up from the same nightmare, she would stare outside the room, across the hall, where Daniel had left his door open. She always found him awake, watching something on his tablet. He would stare up, startled at the sudden noise.</p><p>            The first time it happened, he made it a couple of steps out of bed before she told him she was fine.</p><p>            The second time, he reached the door.</p><p>            The third, he had already heard her whimpering and was at the foot of her bed, brows knitting in concern.</p><p>            And the fourth time it happened, she got up and went to him. She was tired and agitated, so she might as well join him since she wasn’t going back to sleep any time soon.</p><p>            “What are you watching?” she said as she threw herself beside him on the bed.</p><p>            He flipped the screen towards her. <em>Street Food: Asia.</em> Grace smiled a little.</p><p>            “Is that all you’ve been watching these past weeks?” asked Grace.</p><p>            Daniel nodded then reached for his notebook.</p><p>
  <em>            I miss travelling for food.</em>
</p><p>            Sometimes, when he made some smart quips on paper, Grace heard his voice uttering the words. But sometimes, when little slivers of who he really is slipped out, when he was being sincere, she couldn’t quite hear him saying any of the words.</p><p>            And she missed his voice.</p><p>            “Of course you do, you pompous fuck,” she muttered, which earned her a breathy laugh. “Okay, carry on.”</p><p>            Grace laid down next to him and watched the show. She was engaged for about five minutes before her thoughts drifted off to Daniel. He was always up whenever she found herself shook awake by a nightmare, or even after a restless sleep. She wondered if he’d even slept. His eyes were red and a bit sunken. Lines were more prominent. His hair was longer, an unruly mess of curls. At least his facial hair was under control.</p><p>            Grace carefully rest her head against her shoulder, and thankfully, despite tensing up for a second, he didn’t flinch away. Instead, he rest his cheek on top of her head. He didn’t smell of booze anymore, but of soap and aftershave and something so distinctly him. Something that was there when Alex introduced them two years ago at a restaurant and he kissed both her cheeks, and she thought that despite how disheveled he looked, he was rather handsome.</p><p>            Still the same Daniel, even if most of him was gone.</p><p>            That night, she slept next to him.</p><p>*</p><p>
  <strong>Six Weeks Later</strong>
</p><p>            Not survivor’s guilt.</p><p>It wasn’t what his therapist told him when he read what Daniel had written. Sure, Daniel thought he should’ve gone instead of his brother, but that was before he found out that Alex was a Le Domas through and through. So maybe he deserved to die, Daniel thought bitterly.</p><p>            It was something about being the one left behind.</p><p>            There was a constant need to watch his step. His demise seemed inevitable, like Le Bail didn’t quite spare him yet, but was just biding his time, making sure he was just beginning to get comfortable to take him away.</p><p>Take him away from Grace.</p><p>            Days when he couldn’t sleep, which were more often than not, he kept his door open. Grace slept most of the time, but some nights she woke up gasping for air, and he had to make sure that she was alright. Her frightened eyes would find his, and she would visibly relax. She got out of her bed, bare feet padding against the marble floor, as she crossed the hallway and walked into his room</p><p>            She was always so stunning, even as a disheveled mess. Her eyes were puffy, cheeks red from rubbing her face against the pillow. But her striking blue eyes remained bright, and they always took his breath away. She was always stunning in her sleeping shorts and her too-big t-shirt.</p><p>            She helped him sleep. Her warmth against him was grounding and comforting and a reminder that they were alive. That they survived.</p><p>He kept his door open for her.</p><p>He kept his door open to lessen his paranoia.</p><p>            Maybe Le Bail was ready to play again, and he wasn’t going to take him. Maybe it was Grace he was after, because she beat him.</p><p>            Looking at Grace’s features soften as she slept curled up against him, thoughts of Le Bail ceased to exist. Daniel gently brushed a lock of blonde hair away from her face, fingertips barely brushing her cheekbones.</p><p>She was carved out of marble.</p><p>As if he’d ever let Le Bail touch a hair on Grace.</p><p>            Things got a bit more difficult when he was sober all the time. It was easy to just revert back to his old habits. He could simply run to the nearest liquor store, buy the most expensive whiskey and finish it in a day. But it was a conscious choice, for himself and for Grace.</p><p>            He didn’t survive to remain the same alcoholic asshole he was before.</p><p>            But whatever he drank to bury kept coming back in a more persistent way. Truth about his family, his brother’s betrayal, Charity shooting him, and all the animals slaughtered as “preparation” for the inevitable sacrifice. It was his truth, and no matter how far he ran, he couldn’t escape it.</p><p>            Pain shot through his neck every time he remembered that night. He would touch the scar, and his hand would come away bloody. Walls would start spinning until he was back in the mansion, drowning in his own blood, sinking lower, and his vision going red.</p><p>            That was until Grace found him and reminded him to breathe, firm hands on his shoulders. And he did. He tried. He tasted blood on his tongue and he was dying again and again and again.</p><p>            “Daniel, look around. Where are we?”</p><p>            His eyes darted behind her. Painting of tulips. Marble kitchen isle with a red coffee mug left behind by Grace. Marble floor cold beneath his hands. The dining table that he bought because he really liked it. And Grace, solid and real. He opened his mouth and grunted. God fucking damn it.</p><p>            “One thing, Daniel. Just one thing,” she begged.</p><p>            Through gritted teeth, Daniel said, “Chair.”</p><p>            His voice surprised them both. Raspy and breathy and definitely not his own. But Grace’s eyes brightened, and Daniel realized he was breathing, albeit heavily.</p><p>            “Daniel,” breathed out Grace, beaming at him.</p><p>            Daniel exhaled shakily and sat back, rubbing his face. He felt a strange urge to weep, but he wasn’t sure if it was relief at finally uttering a word or how overwhelming everything had been. He swallowed thickly and looked at Grace.</p><p>            At seeing his expression, her smile fell. She scooted closer to him, forehead creasing in concern. “Daniel?” she asked worriedly.</p><p>            Daniel, too afraid of his own voice, pressed a hand against his chest and breathed. Grace sat next to him, their backs against the wall, as they stared at their enormous and too-fancy apartment.</p><p>            “Is it still hard?” she asked.</p><p>            He nodded.</p><p>            “Speaking or living?”</p><p>            Letting out a pained laugh, Daniel nodded again and held up two fingers.</p><p>            “Yeah, living has been a bitch,” Grace said. “But if you need any help with that, I’m right here. I know how it feels. Tell me about it whenever you feel like it.”</p><p>            Daniel knew that. He sighed and reached for her hand, and Grace let him take her healing hand in his. Both trembled from the weight of existing in this world. He carefully ran his fingertips on the bandage.</p><p>            “Permanent nerve damage is what they said. Thank fuck I’m not left handed.”</p><p>            He smiled a little, then brought her palm to his lips, pressing a kiss on the bandage. She then pressed her hand against his cheek, making him look at her.</p><p>            “Daniel,” said Grace softly. “I miss your voice.”</p><p>            He turned to her, a bit surprised at how sincere she sounded. She gave a small, bitter smile. A tug at his heart made him lean into her warmth with a choked sob. Grace wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close until all he could feel and smell was her, her, her.</p><p>            The only thing he wanted to be overwhelmed with was her.</p><p>*</p><p>
  <strong>Seven Weeks Later</strong>
</p><p>            Grace had abandoned her room days ago. She just dressed in her sleeping clothes and crossed the hallway to Daniel’s room, and he let her in. Sleeping next to him was comforting. She still had nightmares. She knew those weren’t going to leave for a long time. But waking up in the dark and feeling Daniel breathe steadily next to her calmed her down quicker.</p><p>            He would sometimes stir and open his eyes to find her that way. On those occasions, he would wrap an arm around her waist and bring her closer. And she would fit nicely against him. Soon, she would find herself drifting off to sleep again as she nuzzled against his chest.</p><p>            They established a routine. They would make breakfast together, sometimes he would urge her to try new recipes, like fluffy pancakes or huevos rancheros. She would usually tell him he was just using her great cooking skills. Then they would go to the movies, and a lunch, then, whoever had a therapy session or a doctor’s appointment, the other person drove them to it.</p><p>            Grace’s favorite time was when they went grocery shopping, because despite Daniel’s ‘no-fucks-given’ attitude, he really liked buying groceries. He would spend thirty whole minutes in the snack aisle, and Grace would let him. Some days, it was protein chips and ten kinds of granola bars, other days, it’s every flavor of Oreos the store had to offer. But in both cases, they would be gone by the next store trip.</p><p>            That was on both of them, however.</p><p>            Grace wondered what they considered themselves. Roommates? Living partners?</p><p>            A couple?</p><p>Family?</p><p>            Their intimacy never went beyond a hug, or when they held each other after a bad night. Sure, when they watched T.V. they were resting against each other. Sometimes she would be halfway on his lap, his arm draped lazily over her body. But they were comfortable.</p><p>            They fit.</p><p>            But there were always words hanging in the air. Daniel hadn’t said much in the past week. Nothing more than a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’. He was still self-conscious about his voice so he chose not to speak, but Grace didn’t mind how it sounded. She didn’t care, in fact, as long as he was saying something to her.</p><p>            In almost two months, she knew how to read his silent cues. A raise of his eyebrow. A grunt. A click of his tongue. A sigh, depending on how he let it out. Most of the time, he didn’t have to say anything as long as she was looking at him.</p><p>            But she was getting tired of the sound of her own voice, and she missed his snarky remarks.</p><p>            She anticipated it, sometimes at night when she was scrolling through Instagram and he was tossing restlessly next to her. A curse or an exclamation, anything. But he sighed and grabbed his phone instead.</p><p>            She had begun to lose hope when it finally happened.</p><p>            It was a slow day. Daniel had been quiet and gloomy since she picked him up from his therapy session. When she asked him how it was, he merely responded with a shrug. For the rest of day, he seemed faraway, distracted by his own thoughts. Grace had tried to grab his attention with a movie, or even a trip to the grocery store, but he shook his head.</p><p>            Fed up with him, she decided to get dressed and go out to buy them dinner. The walks always helped her clear her head, and maybe some space could help Daniel clear his.</p><p>            But as she was heading for the door, she heard her name. Grace blinked, then turned around. Daniel stood at the hallway that lead to their rooms, looking so tired. He throat bobbed as he swallowed. Grace’s hands fell to her sides. He hadn’t said her name since that night.</p><p>
  <em>I like you, Grace.</em>
</p><p>            “Yes, Daniel?”</p><p>            Daniel took a few steps closer, fidgeting with his watch.</p><p>            “I… I was thinking that… If you ever want to leave, get your own place, you can,” he said,</p><p>            Grace’s heart sank. “Wh-Why would I do that?” she asked.</p><p>            “You don’t have to tie yourself to me. You don’t have to.” Daniel gestured at his neck. “The doctor said that I… I can… I’m back to normal, whatever that is.”</p><p>            Grace lifted her chin, then crossed her arms. Daniel looked ashamed.</p><p>            “Daniel.” She stared with defiance. Daniel’s eyes flickered to the floor. “You don’t want me to go,” she said.</p><p>            Daniel shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck.</p><p>            “No, Grace. I don’t.” He looked up, and he seemed somber. “But I can’t… keep you around…”</p><p>            “You’re not keeping me around.”</p><p>            “You’re here because I’m alive.”</p><p>            “No, I’m here because I want to,” retorted Grace, cheeks coloring.</p><p>            “Grace…”</p><p>            “What’s this about? What’s with you today?”</p><p>            “I’m scared!” His voice echoed through the apartment, gruff and raspy. Grace blinked. His chest was rising and falling heavily. “Fuck, Grace, I’m so scared for being the one that survived. Every moment I’m awake, I’m thinking he’s coming to get me, like I can’t be too comfortable.”</p><p>            “That’s not going to happen.”</p><p>            “How can you be so sure?” he asked, chest heaving. “Did you make a deal for my soul?”</p><p>            “You know I wouldn’t,” she said, offended. He seemed to deflate, then curse under his breath. “Daniel, you’re alive, and that’s it.”</p><p>            “Yeah, well, I am and I’m not.” He caught her eyes and his expression softened. “You know, Grace, I wasn’t scared of going. Hell, I deserve it as much as my fucked up family did. But you… you make me scared to leave.”</p><p>            Grace shook her head slowly. “You don’t deserve it. You’re good, Daniel.”</p><p>            It was his turn to shake his head, eyes wet. “I don’t want you to go,” he sobbed out. “Because I like being alive when you’re with me.”</p><p>            Grace walked up to him and pulled him in, hands on either side of his head. It was a bruising and quick kiss, and she was pulling away before Daniel even kissed her back. He stared at her, not quite surprised, but still taken aback.</p><p>            “I don’t want to leave you,” she said, looking him in the eyes. “You can’t push me away. And if Le Bail ever comes back for you, I will fight him myself.”</p><p>            Daniel’s trembling hands came up to her cheeks, his own wet with tears. He closed the distance between them, kissing her slow and sweet. His facial hair tickled her lips but she didn’t mind. She pulled him closer and closer, kissing him back with earnestness. He tasted of mint and tea and smelled like the Daniel she got to know.</p><p>            The Daniel that was hers, just as she was his.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Don't forget to leave a kudos (and a comment if you're feeling generous!) &lt;3<br/>find me on tumblr: gamquicks</p></blockquote></div></div>
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